Roth has managed the rare feat of actually improving on the original.

A cheerful and frequently amusing bit of nonsense, which certainly will provoke children into giggles. The film does not measure up to "March of the Penguins" or "Happy Feet," both Oscar-winning efforts. Nor is it trying to.

The film is messy the way Piaf's life was messy: It's unafraid of extravagant gestures even when they fail to come off.

The latest example of J-horror to reach our shores, Takeshi Furusawa's Ghost Train demonstrates that the increasingly tired genre may be in need of a serious overhaul.

Apatow's gleefully raunchy movies are, in an odd and charming way, extremely family-friendly.

For all the personal ties to the material, the film too often reaches for broad-strokes inspiration in a way that feels generic.

The film feels sleazy and nasty --- but without the pulp kick of filmmakers who know how to do sleazy and nasty.

Despite the inherent, shocking nature of the material, Dan Klores' narrowly focused, poorly paced documentary lacks a narrative thrust that could have made for a more compelling film.

Day Watch does dazzle and even at times amuse. But its imagination is limited. The backstory is shallow and pat. Its characters are mostly one-note. And everything goes on much too long at 133 minutes.

In telling this ancient story with style and humor, de Heer and his Aboriginal collaborators promote cultural understanding and acceptance by stealth, if you will.

With his (Friedkin) vigorous camera compositions and a talented cast, he manages to straddle a wickedly fine line between taught portrayal of paranoia and parody of paranoia.

More than ever, Depp masterfully keeps the enterprise afloat, even when the sheer weight of all those other characters threatens to throw it off-course.

It is an intelligently written piece that only falters during the finale.

The movie takes on the quality of a first-rate detective story.

The only misstep Jun makes, and it's hard to fault him given the budget, is the mediocre and at times heavy-handed use of music. Still, it's an unqualified success from the heartland.

Much of the bite and a good deal of the wit of the first two films are missing here. The rude send-up of beloved fairy tale conventions remains -- somewhat -- but these playful jabs no longer come as pleasing surprises. You expect them. And you expect better.

The writing in Brooklyn seems even more generic. An excessive use of voice-over narration is a sure sign of a failure of dramatization.

Overlong and overstuffed with cliches -- the movie doesn't seem to realize how close it comes to comedy.

Pretentious to the core and lacking any context or credible characterizations.

While Michael Keaton and Brendan Fraser turn in a pair of sturdy performances, the film itself proves to be a harder sell, especially because it looks and sounds like Mamet but proves to be a flimsy knockoff.

A winning combination of laughs and genuine shocks.

Hartley's kooky cosmopolitan caper can never be accused of slumming, but the shift from dry, offbeat wit to politically charged drama is a little jarring, to say the least; it's a bit like taking in Woody Allen's "Annie Hall" and having it morph mid-way through into "Shadows and Fog."

In large part the film succeeds, feeling like a good-natured throwback.

What distinguishes it are its intelligent, unsentimental screenplay, which only occasionally lapses into emotional manipulation; the assured direction by Yukihiko Tsutsumi; and the superb acting.

The film has enormous charm and zero pretense.

A ferociously entertaining thriller with sympathetic characters, stunning set pieces and pulsating excitement.

The hilariously dirty insult comic Lisa Lampanelli shows up all too briefly as Engvall's shrewish wife.

Proves to be more prone to malfunction than dysfunction.